


that's where music comes from

by youmakemesoangry



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Arranged Marriage, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Elves, Fantasy, King Leonard Snart, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, Prince Barry Allen, basically i'm just gonna botch a bunch of old languages, such as Sindarin and some old german and finnish, wrongly used languages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmakemesoangry/pseuds/youmakemesoangry
Summary: “So you sold me to the Bastard King of the North?”“No, sire. Weproposeda union to the king of one of the wealthiest kingdoms in the north.” It’s the mention of wealth that sticks in Barry’s mind for a few moments and then he remembers. He remembers the biggest rumor that has traveled throughout the kingdoms surrounding his.“The Elf King.” His heartbeat ratchets up and Harrison’s mouth tightens slightly.“Yes, sire.”“You’re marrying me to afae?!”





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: So I decided that it would be easier if this was a Prince Barry fic instead of a King Barry one so there are some changes!

_Come here, little wolf, and tell me why you bare your teeth._

_Tell me; what has made you this way? Tell me; what has sharpened your edges? What has turned your softness, hard? You growl until you can lick your wounds in peace._

_Those that love you no longer reach for you for fear of your teeth. Watching them flinch makes your lips curl into a snarl, your mouth having forgotten how to do anything else years ago._

_The duck of their heads settles a burning thing in your chest. It appeases the dark, hateful thing that has taken hold of your heart while the rest of you revolts._

_So tell me, little wolf, about what put that dark thing there._

_Tell me, and I will free you from it._

 

✴︎

 

“What the hell do you mean ‘it has to be done’?!” He stood up in a rush of fury, slapping his hand down on the wooden table and effectively silencing the bickering council.

“Your Highness, plea-“

“Do not ‘Your Highness’ me. We don’t need any help.” He looks down the table at the council members, their steely eyes not giving an inch. He locks eyes with the head council member at the far end of the table.

“Sire, would you please sit so we can discuss this.” He continues glaring before taking a deep breath and ducking his head, sitting once he has calmed himself enough.

“I’m sorry, Harrison. Please, explain to me why you think that it’s best for this kingdom, my _father's_ kingdom, that I get _sold_ to the highest bidder.” At the far end of the table, Harrison takes a very obvious, steadying breath.

“Your Highness, we aren’t _selling_ you. The council has discussed it and, well.” Harrison makes a gesture as if to encompass the entirety of the council. “The coming winter is not going to be good for the people this year. We had very poor harvests, the weather being too cold and too warm in turns causing the crops to grow poorly or not at all.”

He had read the consensuses. He knew this.

“Do we not have any stored from last winter?” He watches as Harrison shares a glance with a few of the council members, all matching faces of somberness.

“I’m sorry, sire. We do not.” He puts his elbow on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose before lifting his head again.

“That is easily dealt with, no? We barter with one of the nearby kingdoms.” Before he even finishes, Harrison is shaking his head.

“Sire, we have nothing to trade. With the low crop yield, there isn’t enough livestock to produce textiles or leather for trade. We lost our entire surplus of armor and weaponry fending off Lord Eobard’s attack.” He sank back into his chair and can feel the pressure building between his temples, the inevitability of the situation settling in.

“Not only did we lose supplies, but we lost men.” The council member, head of the Knight’s Guard, sat forward and rested an arm on the table to turn and face Barry.

“What does that mean for us?” Barry watches as he looks around at the other council members before turning to Barry again.

“It means we are weak, Your Highness. Incredibly so. _Dangerously_ so. If any of the surrounding kingdoms were to find out about this, we would be conquered before the sun sets.”

"Does my father know of this?" The council shifts in their seats and turn all their eyes to Harrison, who clears his throat.

"Yes. We discussed it before he left for his hunting trip."

"He agreed to this?" Harrison lifted his chin slightly, face serious and grave.

"He understands the severity of the situation, sire."

The crown feels very heavy on his head, all of sudden. He closes his eyes and breathes.

“Your Highness?” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes.

“Yes, Harrison?” There is a long pause, and so he opens his eyes slowly to look down the table.

“We have a kingdom, a king, in mind for you.” He looks up to the ceiling and wishes that this wasn’t his job, that this isn’t something that he _has_ to do for his kingdom.

“Is it one of our allies?” He knows it’s too much to hope for, but maybe he could get out of this with a simple union between one of the kingdoms he is familiar with. He hopes, secretly but strongly, that it’s the West Kingdom, the beautiful Princess he grew up playing with whenever their fathers would meet for talks for trade and defenses. Or perhaps the lovely Princess Smoak, though he had heard some gossip in the kingdom that she made a union with the Queen Kingdom by marrying the King.

Or maybe even King Palmer, whom he had met only the once at one of the King’s many balls but of whom he had talked for a time with about their knowledge in the sciences.

“I’m sorry, but no. All of our allies have already done the same thing we are attempting, or are just too weak to handle the toll of our kingdom on top of theirs.” He can feel his heart drop to his stomach at that.

“Princess Iris?” Harrison shakes his head.

“Betrothed to King Edward of the Thawne Kingdom.” Oh. He stops breathing briefly, so overcome by the hopelessness that settles over him. He had hoped they would...by God's bones he had hoped.

“Who?” Harrison stands from his chair and walks towards Barry, a piece of paper held in his hand. He hands the paper to Barry, the intricate design pressed into the wax seal being one he only vaguely recognizes.

“We sent a letter to King Snart.” He looks up, away from the beautiful design, to stare in shock at Harrison.

“You sent a request to a kingdom without discussing this with me?” Harrison at least has the grace to look away in guilt.

“We apologize, Your Highness, but time is of the essence and your father had given us permission. We need a union of the kingdoms in place soon if we are to help our people in time for the first frost.” He’s tempted to crush the letter in his hand in his anger. He tries to remember what little he knows of the northern king, trying to piece together who he'll be giving his kingdom to.

“So you sold me to the Bastard King of the North?”

“No, sire. We _proposed_ a union to the king of one of the wealthiest kingdoms in the north.” It’s the mention of wealth that sticks in Barry’s mind for a few moments and then he remembers. He remembers the biggest rumor that has traveled throughout the kingdoms surrounding his.

“The Elf King.” His heartbeat ratchets up and Harrison’s mouth tightens slightly.

“Yes, sire.”

“You’re marrying me to a _fae_?!” The disbelief he feels makes his voice go higher than any member of the royal family’s should, but he’s too shocked to care too much about it.

“Open the letter, Your Highness, and find out.” Barry doesn’t look away from Harrison as gestures for a servant and murmurs to her to bring him a heated knife. “If he accepts, then we will be able to provide for our kingdom. There is no other option, sire.” The servant returns and places a heated knife in his hand and he melts the wax and lifts the seal. He finally looks down and the knife is taken from his hand as he reaches to put it on the table. He can’t even blush with the knowledge that he had to be stopped from ruining the table with the red-hot knife, too focused on the feeling of his heart in his throat. He pulls the letter from the envelope and unfolds it.

It is dead quiet in the hall while he reads.

The penmanship is beautiful. It flows with such grace, the letters curving and swooping in delicate lines. He has to reread the first sentences a few times, too captured by the sharp lines and perfect curves.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he reads, and fights not to clench his shaking hands.

He drops the letter to the table.

He scans his eyes across the council members at the table before looking up at Harrison.

“He accepts.” He can see the council, Harrison included, visibly relax. He fights the burning in his eyes and has to close them when Harrison puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly.

“The kingdom is saved. Be happy, Your Highness.” He clenches his teeth and swallows hard.

He will do anything for his kingdom. He is their prince and he will do anything to protect them.

Even this.


	2. Chapter 2

He writes a letter that he sends to the West Kingdom to congratulate the future queen on her betrothal. If it takes him an hour more than it should to write it, no one has to know. No one has to know how much it hurts to react happily to the future wedding of the woman that he had hoped…

No one has to know.

He keeps the letter personable but slightly distant, in the end, and does not include anything about his current situation. 

He refuses to talk about it until his father returns from his hunting trip.

Harrison attempts to discuss travel and trade numerous times, only to be cut off by a look from Barry.

His own attitude makes guilt stir in his stomach horribly, never one to act this way towards anyone. He realizes that he is acting childishly and cruel in turns and he hates that he is reacting this way when he should be happy that he is going to be saving his kingdom from starvation or from being conquered. 

But he needs to wait until his father comes back before he can even begin to discuss this rationally. He knows that his father will keep everyone’s tempers cool, and he may even stop this from happening if Barry could just talk to him. He won’t make any decisions until then, not wanting to make any solid plans lest they be hard to break, all in the hopes that his father sees the errors of this solution.

 

A week later, Barry hears about his father’s return from a servant who had been sent to get him to attend a meeting between the council and the King.

His shoes click as he walks down the stone hallway, and that soft noise is enough to cover whatever is being discussed. It also, once Barry gets close enough, is loud enough to notify the council members of his coming and it stops their talking as soon as they hear it.

They stand when he enters the meeting hall as the servants stationed around the room bow respectively. He waves his hand, wishing the formalities would stop. He has never liked them, never wanting any person to think that he believes himself to be better than them. He is a servant to his people, their safety and comforts his first priority above all else.

As he makes his way to his seat next to his father, his gut churns with the conflicting thoughts. He is the prince and he will serve his people as best as he can. In order to do that, he has to be married to The Elf King in the north, away from his home and stranded in a kingdom with a leader who has gained quite a reputation.

He has heard talk that the king is still fair, despite being cruel at times.

He does not know how much he believes this.

“Thank you for joining us, Your Highness.” Barry nods at Harrison and turns to his father.

“I’m happy to see you’ve returned, father.” The King nods before turning his eyes back to the council.

“Now, I’m told that there is a problem with what you discussed with me before I left. Pray tell, Harrison. What is wrong? Did the courier meet any trouble?” Harrison’s eyes flick quickly to Barry’s before going back to the King’s.

“No, sir. In fact, we have received word back from the northern kingdom.” The King’s eyes widen and his eyebrows raise as his eyes, too, flick to Barry before returning to the council.

“That is…startling fast. I had assumed we would have had enough time to discuss this with the prince before getting an answer.” Barry can feel his jaw clench, the reason why he had had no say becoming clear.

They had not expected to have to explain the situation to Barry without the king there to back them up.

“We know, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, we had to tell the prince ourselves and it was,” Harrison pauses, “ _not_ taken well. We are hoping that you may be able to better explain the importance of this union to the welfare of the kingdom.” There’s an edge to Harrison’s voice that makes Barry feel both embarrassed and incensed. 

He _knows_ he’s acting childishly. He also knows that he does _not_ want to have to do this.

His father looks over the council slowly before he stands from his chair.

“Leave us.” The council looks to each other in confusion. “I will discuss this with my son in private. Leave us.” The council hastily stands and leaves the hall as the king steps away from the table. Once the council is gone and their footsteps can no longer be heard, Barry stands as well and goes to hug his father.

“How was your trip?” he asks as they pull away and Henry is grinning, his serious facade falling in the face of his son.

“It was good to get out, though not as good as it is to come back.” Henry grips Barry’s upper arms as his grin slowly fades. “I’m sorry, son. I never wanted it to come to this, and I especially did not want you to find out this way.” Barry’s head drops and he nods.

“I know. Is there any way? Any other way than this?” Barry lifts his head to see his father look down and shake his head, the sadness creeping onto his face.

“I am _so_ sorry, Barr. I know that you and Princess—“ Barry shakes his head, cutting Henry off.

“She is betrothed, father. It does not matter much now what I had hoped for us. But, isn’t there _any_ way that—“ His father shakes his head and drops his hands from their grip on Barry’s arms. Henry steps away and rubs at his forehead, the stress and tiredness becoming very clear on his face.

“I have been meeting with the council for months, Barry. We have gone through every possibility, every solution.” He sighs and reaches to take off his crown and run his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that Barry has picked up, though the king never lets it show in front of anyone else. “I’m sorry, Barry. There _isn’t_ any other way. I know you don’t believe me, but this is the best option.”

Barry feels his throat tighten up and his eyes burn before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the reality of it all making his heart race.

He opens his eyes and puts on a determined face, the face he wears whenever he does any of his duties for his people. The expression makes Henry look sadder.

“King Leonard has agreed to the union, so I will be leaving within the week.” He tries to sound terse and maybe even a little righteous, but he can’t hold it for long. 

His shoulders slump and he and his father reach for each other again. He tucks his face against Henry’s neck and squeezes tight before letting go and stepping away.

“I am not angry with you, father. I know that you’re just doing what is best for the people. I know that _I_ am doing what is best for the people.” Henry’s lips move up with a sad smile that Barry knows he mirrors. “I love the people above all else. I will make the best of this, I promise.” He takes a deep breath and bows before turning and exiting the hall with quick strides.

He manages to make it to his chambers before the first tear falls.

He leans back against his door after he closes it and sobs, dropping his head into his hands.

 

 

He only lets himself wallow in self-pity for a few minutes before he goes to his water bowl and splashes some water on his face, the coolness of it helping to settle his mind and soothe his burning face.

He takes a few breaths before exiting his room again and telling a servant to go ahead to prepare a horse for him. He grabs his scabbard and putting it on, sheathing his sword as he made his way to the stables. He arrives just as the stablehand walks his steed out already with a saddle, her snout pushing against the stablehand to knock him to the side. Barry smiles and takes Flete’s reins and rubbing a gentle hand down her snout and kissing just above her nose. He thanks the stable hand before mounting Flete and heading out of the courtyard and off castle grounds. 

It’s too soon before he makes it onto one of the Lord’s lands, his head not fully wrapped around what he plans to say.

He sees a servant rush away, probably to prepare the family for his arrival. 

By the time he makes it to the manor house and to their stables, Cisco is running out to greet him.

“Prince Bartholomew!” Cisco bows and when he straightens, he meets Barry’s unamused look with a cheeky grin.

“Shut up, _Sir Francisco_.” Cisco’s grin doesn’t leave as he hugs Barry, rocking them back in forth to get a laugh out of Barry.

“You love me.” Barry finally smiles, the first time in over a week, and he feels his shoulders relax and something tight in his chest uncoils. Cisco notices and shoots him a concerned look.

“What’s happened?” Barry sighs and rubs a hand down his face.

“Let me greet your parents, first. Then we can go for a ride and I’ll tell you.” Cisco stays quiet for a moment or two before nodding and leading the way back to the main house. Once inside, a servant rushes off to get Cisco’s parents while another brings them to the sitting room. They wait, Barry standing and Cisco sitting, somewhat sprawled. Barry looks at his posture and snorts which gets Cisco to roll his eyes. As they hear the click of shoes coming down the hall, Cisco sits up straight, making Barry hold back a laugh as his parents walk in. They bow and curtsey in greeting.

“Prince Bartholomew.” Barry winces at the name but manages to smile at Cisco’s father in reply. “What brings you to our manor?”

“Lord and Lady Ramon. I’m not here on any formal business.” He sees their faces relax slightly and tries to keep his tone light, hating the way his very presence causes others to stress. “I’m here just to discuss something with Francisco. I have something that I’m hoping he can help me with.” Cisco’s parents look at each other briefly, their mouths starting to twitch into smiles.

“Of course, Bartholomew. We’re sure Francisco would be honored to help you in any way he can.” They bow and curtsey and he bows lightly in return before following the servant to the door, Cisco right behind him. As the door closes behind them, he hears Cisco let out a breath just as Barry does. They turn to each other and laugh, walking towards the stables.

“Does that ever disturb you? The way people get all formal with you?” Barry rolls his eyes as he mounts his horse as Cisco does the same.

“Every moment of every day.”  They start out of the walls of the manor and through the village.

“So what does the great Prince Barry need my help with?” Barry tenses slightly before rolling his shoulders to try and rid himself of the tension.

“I am betrothed.” Barry sees Cisco make an outrageous gesture out of the corner of his eye and hears Cisco’s horse, Visio, make a huffing noise at his rider’s sudden movements.

“You’re _what?!”_ Barry laughs a little before he feels his face fall again.

“I’m betrothed. For the safety of the kingdom, I am to be married off to a king in the north.” Barry notices Cisco stopping his horse so Barry stops his and turns Flete around. “What is it?” Cisco looks shocked.

“The north?” Barry takes a deep breath and nods. “How far north?” Cisco asks, pointedly. Barry meets his eyes.

“ _The_ north.” Cisco’s mouth pinches with worry but he gets Visio moving again and Barry turns Flete around so they’re riding side by side.

“A king, you said?” Barry nods. “Is it…” Barry nods, not needing Cisco to finish. Cisco huffs in anger.

“The council is having me marry King Snart of the northern kingdom.” Cisco curses and Barry is glad that he has a friend like this.

“Do they wish to kill you?” Barry shakes his head, not in denial but in an expression of ignorance.

“I don’t know. I really don’t, Cisco.”

“A fae. And not just a fae, a _Snart_. By God’s nails, Barry. King Lewis was executed for his cruelty and I doubt his son is any better.” Cisco’s knuckles have gone white with how hard he’s gripping the reins but Barry just nods.

“I know, Cisco. That’s why I need your help.” At Cisco’s panicked look he waves a hand to try and calm Cisco down. “I’m not asking you to go against my father, I swear. I just.” Barry looks ahead of them and can feel his shoulders slump. “I need you to come with me. To be a chaperone or guard or anything that will get the council to allow you to come. I just need someone there.” He looks at Cisco. “Would that be too much trouble?”

Cisco breaks out into a grin.

“Prince Bartholomew, it would be an _honor_.” Cisco attempts a bow that brings a smile to Barry’s face. “Anything, Barry. Really,” Cisco says with weight, meeting his eyes. Barry relaxes. “Plus, my parents have been wanting me to go out and become an apprentice now that I've graduated from the university and my brother isn’t around anymore.” Cisco’s voice drops into a grumble as he brings up his brother and Barry laughs, the conversation finally getting a lighter tone.

“Oh yeah? Well, then they’ll be happy that I’m stealing you away.” Cisco good-naturedly. “Where is your brother, anyway?” 

“Getting his degree, of course. Though, by his letters, you’d think he was off getting tortured instead,” Cisco says, laughingly. “‘Dear beloved family. They have made me perform arithmetic twice this week and they said that my grammar is atrocious! Surely I will die of it!’ I always knew he was the more dramatic child.” Cisco’s high pitched mockery of Dante’s voice has Barry leaning forward with his laughter, burying his face in his horse’s mane to try and stifle how loudly he’s laughing and Flete shakes her head in protest of that. Cisco’s eyes crinkle as he laughs along with Barry and he’s endlessly grateful Cisco agreed to go with him.

When their laughter as calmed down, Barry still has a smile on his face.

“I think you should ask Caitlin to come as well.” Barry looks at him, curious about his reasoning. “You need all the friends you can get, Barry. The north is a cold and lonely place.” Cisco meets his stare, his eyes full of concern and worry. “And we may be in a need of a doctor, especially one who knows of curses and the like.” Barry holds the look for a few moments before looking away and shaking his head.

“It would be improper.”

“Improper? Barry, you’re the prince. Everything you do is proper by the grace of your standing.” Barry rolls his eyes before shrugging.

“I guess. I’ll be sure to ask her.”

“Plus I’m sure she’ll say yes to anything as long it gets her far away from her mother.” Barry laughs, remembering the way Caitlin grumbles about her mother.

“I’m sure as well. I’ll be sure to ride and ask her tomorrow. Would you like to join me?” Cisco attempts a fake bow again.

“It would be an honor, Your Highness.” Barry is tempted to direct Flete into Visio, just to knock Cisco off balance.

“Cisco?” Barry gets a questioning hum in response. “Thank you.”

Cisco doesn’t say anything for awhile.

“It’s an honor, Barry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cisco and I hope I got his voice alright.  
> Some things may not be exactly medieval-like, so please let me know if you see something (like a word or something) that should be changed :D


	3. Chapter 3

Caitlin says yes.

Or more accurately, before he can even get the full question out and before he can even tell her the situation, she’s grabbing his and Cisco’s arms, shaking them.

“Yes. For the love of all that is holy, yes _please_!”

Her mother’s mouth is pinched in obvious displeasure, but she does not dare to defy his request.

They take a walk further into the fields of The Snow Manor while Barry explains why he wants Caitlin to join them on his ‘trip’.

“How could your father do this?” Barry ducks his head at her soft tone, his mouth twisting slightly.

“He doesn’t have much of a choice. He— _the council—_ has discussed all of the options and it…it’s the only thing that makes sense. The only thing that will work.” He lifts his head but refuses to look to either side of him, at either of his friends. “It’s the solution with the least amount of casualties.”

“Oh my god,” she says softly, and Barry can see her hand come up to cover his mouth.

“We won’t let that happen, Barry. We won’t let _anything_ happen to you. Have no fear.” Cisco puts his hand on Barry’s shoulder and he reaches up a hand to cover it, smiling at the solidarity.

“How could I have any fear when I have such fierce warriors at my side?” Cisco throws back his head in a laugh and Caitlin stifles her laugh in her hand and Barry grins.

 

He tells his father of his plan to bring his friends to the northern kingdom. His announcement is met with a sad look and a nod.

 

By the end of the week, his father has taken Cisco and Caitlin to the side for private discussions no less than five times, each ending in matching grey and resolute expressions with no word to Barry as to what they were about.

He can guess, though.

The fae are not known for their kindness, but rather their cruelty. And he had heard tales of the previous king’s transgressions; the murder, the corruption, the _hatred_ the man had for his people.

It would not be above his son to have the same ideals, nor would it be above a fae.

Cisco and Caitlin are waiting in their carriages outside the castle walls as he writes another letter to Iris. He knows his first letter has yet to reach it’s destination, but this one is to explain everything. He tells her of the betrothal, of where he will be receiving letters from now on.

He does not tell her that he may not be around to receive them.

She’ll know.

 

He goes to his father’s private chambers once he gives the letter to the courier. When he knocks, he barely gets through the second rap before the door is being swung open. His father…does not look good.

“Father?” That’s all he manages to get out before his father is reaching out and pulling him into a tight hug. Barry stiffens in surprise before hugging his father back just as tight.

“I’m sorry,” his father says, softly. So soft that no one else would be able to hear it had they’d been in the room. Barry can feel his throat tighten and he tucks his head against his father’s neck, his eyes burning.

“I know,” he manages to choke out before forcing himself to pull away. He sniffs and stands tall, his father doing the same. “I will send word when the date is set for the wedding.”

“Send more than that, please?” He can feel his mouth twist down with the effort not to cry.

“Of course, father. Every week.”He nods and pauses, looking into his father’s eyes, before turning on his heel and making his way through the castle, his father’s footsteps echoing behind him.

When he gets outside and sees Caitlin pushing Cisco around as they wait outside their carriages, he feels something in his chest loosen. He makes his way to Flete, much to the bewilderment of the knights.

“Sire? It would be safer for you in the carriage.” He doesn’t spare the knight a glance as he mounts his horse, readjusting his scabbard as he settles.

“I will ride in my carriage once we get further north. As of right now,” he says, looking out across the area that they will be crossing, “I’d prefer to enjoy the air as of now. Is that alright?” The knight stares dumbfounded at Barry before nodding and heading to his horse further ahead in the line.

Barry settles before glancing back, catching his father’s sad look before it shifts into one of stoicism. He nods and receives a nod in return before the knights spur their horses into moving.

One week. He’ll meet his future in a week.

 

One, _very_ boring, week.

 

“I don’t know what you expected, _Your Highness_.” He bristles at Cisco’s tone but he takes a deep, calming breath, realizing that it’s just because nothing is more boring than _traveling_ and he knows he’s been complaining almost nonstop _._

“I thought you were excited to see the countryside?” He slides an unamused look at Caitlin. He had finally caved to the comfort of the carriage.

“My ass hurts,” he mumbles, crossing his arms as Cisco and Caitlin laugh, the sound echoing out the curtained window and across the snow covered fields. He can see their breaths, has been for over a day, and that makes something in him twist.

In anticipation or dread, he cannot say.

Caitlin has her arm linked with his, leaning against him for warmth and Cisco is not far off from doing the same when the carriage stops. Caitlin lifts her head from his shoulder in surprise, turning to look at him and Cisco in question. Barry shrugs as he hears the clink of boots coming towards the carriage. There’s a soft knock, and Barry pulls the curtain to the side, a fierce and cold wind blowing the curtain even further away.

“We are on Snart land and approaching the castle, Your Highness. Lord and Lady.” The knight ducks his head before walking away from the carriage and Barry lets the curtain drop back in place, cutting the chill.

He slumps back against the bench, Caitlin and Cisco saying nothing but taking one of his hands each. He squeezes their hands and tries to smile with confidence but he knows he must miss it by a mile when they lean around him to share concerned looks.

He’s the prince. He is Prince Bartholomew of The Allen Kingdom and he can do this.

 

He knows they’ve reached castle grounds when the sound of the wheels going over dirt changes to that of stone.

He squeezes their hands harder and swallows.

He doesn’t let go until the carriage stops.

Caitlin and Cisco don’t let go, either.

 

 

❅

 

 

He’s had his jaw clenched since the moment he had received the letter.

The _request_.

King Allen of one of the southern kingdoms was asking, _pleading_ , for Leonard to consider a union between their kingdoms.

He was offering his son as incentive.

The man clearly knew how entice the fae.

“They need our help, Len.” He waved his hand at his sister, stopping her from continuing.

“I don’t care what they need. They are of no concern to us.” He dipped his quill in ink, swiping a hand across the paper to flatten it. “I’m denying them, Lisa, and that is final. I do not want to hear anymore about this.” He’s stopped from putting the feather to paper by Lisa snatching his wrist.

He snarls, baring his teeth at her in warning. She bares hers back, a slightly less intimidating gesture with her duller teeth, but a statement nonetheless. He lets her pull his wrist away and sits back in his chair, tilting his head back to look up at her. She lets go of his wrist and steps away, meeting his stare dead on.

“They need help, Len. And they are offering a very _tempting_ prize for such help.” He can feel his lip start to twitch up into a snarl. “Tales tell of the prince’s beauty. More tell of his kindness, his love of his people.”

“I don’t care if the heavens shine on him when he talks and he hand feeds orphans. His kingdom wants money from us and I will not be bought.” He can hear the sound of icicles clinking together as his tone gets harsher, but he doesn’t stop it. Lisa looks away, mouth twisting at his harshness, so he turns back to the letter.

“Leonard.” He grinds his teeth and has to relax his hand before he snaps the quill. “Tell them yes. I’m telling you this as your advisor, but more importantly, as your _sister_. Take this deal.”

“You do not tell me what to do, Lisa.” He hears Lisa take a deep breath.

“Len, if you write that letter, I will go to the council about this.” He turns his head quickly to look at her.

“You have no right.” She bites her lip before steeling herself, turning bodily to face him with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.

“You are my brother—“

“I am your _King!_ ” His shout echoes in the office, the sound of cracking ice is as harsh as the screech of him pushing back his chair, wood scraping against wood.

Once the echoes stop, it is deathly quite.

Lisa’s mouth is pinched tight, jaw clenched.

The mask she learned to wear in front of their father when any sign of fear was punished.

Her voice is soft when she finally speaks. The tone she learned to use, as well.

“You are my brother, Len. I want what is best for you, and I want what is best for this kingdom. This,” she points at the letter from King Allen, the shake of her hand giving away her emotions, “is _good_ for us. For you.”

He huffs and looks away harshly. He looks at her out of the corner of his eyes when she steps closer.

“You are going to write an acceptance to this union or _I_ will _.”_ With that she leaves, dress trailing behind her making the only noise.

She slams the door closed behind her. He curses and rubs his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks to the ceiling and just breathes for a minute before sitting back down.

He picks up his quill and begins to write, mouth set in a tight line as he accepts to Prince Bartholomew.

He knows he made the right decision when he made Lisa his advisor.

It doesn’t mean he has to like it.

 

It’s nearly a month before he’s told of the arrival of the prince.

He makes his way to the main hall but doesn’t go outside to meet them. It probably wouldn’t be a good first impression if he forced his _betrothed_ to stand outside in the snow.

The large hall doors are pulled open, a harsh wind whips in, and the head of his Knight’s Guard leads their guests in. Once they’re all in and the doors are closed, the head of the Knight’s Guard steps to the side, still facing Leonard.

“Prince Bartholomew Allen of the Allen Kingdom. Lord Francisco Ramon of the Allen Kingdom. Lady Caitlin Snow of the Allen Kingdom.” He turns to the side, looking to their guests and Leonard walks forward.

He gestures to Leonard with his staff.

“Kuningaz Leonard Snart. Elverkonge.” The knights along the walls pound their spears down into the stone, the sound echoing in the hall.

From where he had been at the back of the hall, he hadn’t been able see much of the prince or his companions other than their stiff postures.

As he gets closer, he takes in the calm face of a prince who has been dealing with diplomacy his whole life. He sees the prince standing tall with his hands behind his back under his cloak and, as Leonard gets closer, he brings one hand around to his stomach as he bows, his companions kneeling almost in synch, one hand clench against their chest over their hearts.

The prince straightens as Leonard continues closer, making it easy for Leonard to see the trim figure when his winter shall ruffles out of the way. His companions stand and though they do not look at him, their forward gazes are serious.

He sees the prince have no outward reaction to Leonard’s appearance. So the prince is both diplomatic _and_ polite.

“Kuningaz Leonard. I want to thank you, on behalf of myself and of my kingdom, for accepting the union.” The prince’s voice is deep and rich, stumbling only slightly on the pronunciation of the title, and Leonard feels it in his chest. Len tilts his head back slightly in a nod.

“Prince Bartholomew.” His eyes flicker to the side as he notices his sister walk in to the hall, making her way to his left. “It is a pleasure to have you and your companions in our kingdom.” He gestures to Lisa. “My sister, Princess Lisa.” The prince bows as his companions kneel again, giving her the same respect they gave him.

He has to force the smile that twitches at the corners of his mouth down.

“Your Royal Highness. It is an honor,” the prince says as he straightens. Lisa doesn’t bother to stop her smile, nearly grinning at the prince.

“Prince Bartholomew, believe me. The honor is all mine.” If they had been children still, he would have kicked her for the clear teasing lilt to her voice.

“Barry, Your Highness. I go by Prince Barry in my kingdom.”

_Barry_.

It fits the prince far more than the longer, stuffier name.

“I will let you all get comfortable. Dinner will be at sunset. Ælfric, please show our guests to their rooms.” The head of the Knight’s Guard steps forward and nods once.

“Of course, Aiglos.” Leonard clenches his teeth at the childhood nickname and meets Mick’s eyes with a raised eyebrow. Mick’s face stays impassive as he bows and turns to lead their guests out.

He watches them leave, eyes stuck to the prince’s back, the rolling movement of his cloak almost hypnotic.

He catches the Lord looking back once, a quick look to Lisa before facing forward again.

Lisa grins.

Once they’re out of the hall, Leonard turns and walks towards his office. He can hear Lisa close on his heels. He leaves the door open when he walks in, trusting Lisa to close it behind her.

“So, what are your first impressions of Prince _Barry_?” He turns around to face her and crosses his arms, leaning back against his desk.

“He is polite. Diplomatic. He didn’t even look shocked when he saw me.” Lisa raises an eyebrow at that.

“Do you think he knew?” Leonard tilted his head to the side in thought.

“I doubt it.”

“So he’s just _that_ polite?” Lisa seems impressed, having seen countless reactions to Leonard’s appearance throughout their lives.

He nods and turns around and leans over to look over the papers on his desk that needed to be looked over. Maybe he could get some work done before dinner.

“Lenny?” He straightens and turns around to face his sister. There’s a peculiar look on her face, a look he can’t place. “You won’t regret this.” He looks at her for a few moments before nodding once, a dismissal more than an acceptance of the statement. She takes the dismissal and leaves, the line of her shoulders relaxed and she doesn’t slam the door closed behind her this time.

Once the door is closed, he slumps back against the desk and let’s out a harsh breath.

By God’s hands, the prince was _beautiful_.

He was stunning with his head held up with pride. His eyes were gorgeous when they steadily met Leonard’s.

He covers his face with one of his hands and takes a shaky breath.

He shakes his head and sniffs, standing straight.

The prince is here for money, and Leonard has to remember that. No matter how beautiful he is, no matter how lovely his voice is, he is a tool for his kingdom.

He sits down at his desk and starts reading over the papers.

Just because the prince seems polite, just because the rumors paint him as a saint, does not mean anything. He has seen plenty of revered people turn and betray the very people that looked up to them.

Leonard will not allow that to happen to him.

 

 

❅

 

 

Two sets of eyes.

The king had _two_ sets of eyes.


End file.
